


Journey’s End

by laniew1



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-26
Updated: 2007-10-13
Packaged: 2018-06-09 12:36:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6907519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laniew1/pseuds/laniew1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was ten when he realized that his father viewed him and Sammy differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love Papa John.

**Journey’s End**

Dean was ten when he realized that his father viewed him and Sammy differently. Showering love and affection on the younger boy, and barely acknowledging a particularly well done job with a pat on the head for Dean.

He hadn’t minded when they were younger because he had memories that Sammy didn’t.

He had vague recollections of his mother, of soft hands and a soothing voice and blonde hair that she would dangle against his face causing him to squirm and giggle.

Sammy didn’t have those, Sammy barely remembered even _impressions_ of their mom and for a very awkward five days he’d called Dean mom. He’d been joking of course, doing it to get a rise out of Dean and it had worked until Dean had punched him twice in the arm and Sammy little wuss that he was cried and dad yelled.

Sammy stopped calling him mom though, called him Dean or moron as he felt the occasion warranted.

They’d been camping. A simple camping trip, they weren’t even hunting anything.

Something had been hunting them though, they’d heard howls in the night and dad had said ‘werewolf’ and Sammy had said ‘I’m scared’ and clung to their father.

Dean had gone to lay the lines of salt because dad couldn’t, not with Sammy clinging to him like a limpet, crying and useless.

It had gotten him on the backside of the tent. Dad had called for him and Dean couldn’t even talk, couldn’t even reassure him. His hands had been shaking on the gun that his dad had told him to take.

They might not have been actively hunting but John Winchester was never unprepared.

He’d gotten off two shots and the werewolf had dropped and dad had come out of the tent, Sammy still clinging to him.

He’d gotten yelled at for not answering his dad. He’d not been congratulated for downing an adult werewolf at ten.

Sammy had been hugged and kissed and dad had told him how proud he was of him for being so brave.

Dean was ten when he realized that his dad looked at his two sons and only saw one.

 

***************************************

 

Dean was fourteen when he started planning his escape.

He hustled for pool, tricked a little until he decided that while he liked the sex well enough the fact that he was doing it for money might turn him off it all together.

Dad and Sammy never had any clue. He’d give them some of the money, just enough to supplement what dad had. Bought Sammy new sneakers and jeans and t-shirts when he started growing so fast that it seemed like he was outgrowing things on a weekly basis.

Most of it went into a little pocket that he’d sewn in the bottom of his duffel bag. Dad never went in it and Sammy had learned to stop snooping when Dean had replaced his shampoo with blue hair dye.

 

***************************************

 

At eighteen he left.

Went out one morning for coffee and just never went back. He had the clothes on his back and the money he’d saved hidden in the bottoms of his shoes, inside pockets on his jacket. He kept twenty in his wallet just for appearances sake.

He caught the bus and went one town over.

Sgt. Erik Hamilton was waiting for him when he walked into the recruitment office. Smiling when he walked through the door and he opened his mouth but Dean didn’t wait to find out what he was going to say.

“I’m here to enlist.”

Short, sweet. To the point.

Sgt. Hamilton had the papers drawn up and when Dean told him he was willing to leave for basic immediately he tried to talk him out of it.

“Spend some time with your family, its going to be a while before you see them again.”

“They’re in the middle of traveling around the U.S. right now,” Dean said, straight face and he’d learned to lie at ten.

When Sammy asked why Dean hated dad, Dean had said he didn’t and learned to hide his emotions better. Until he didn’t feel them at all.

He still loved Sammy, he always would.

If he’d stayed it would have been for him, but Sammy had started talking about a normal life, about what he was going to do when he was old enough to be on his own and Dean had known if he didn’t leave he would be trapped with a father that tolerated him but didn’t love him.

He’d stayed in a motel; the bartender served him even though he could in no way pass for 21. She lied to his father when he came through flashing a picture looking for him.

It was for Sammy he knew, there was no way that dad would be searching for him unless Sammy had pushed it.

He left for basic on a Tuesday morning. It was raining and dreary and the boys sitting around him all looked scared to death and he caught more than one of them asking ‘what the hell have we gotten ourselves into’.

He’d never felt more free.

 

***************************************

 

He was 22 when the Stargate program came calling. Of course it hadn’t been called that, not when the idea of it had been pitched to him.

Colonel O’Neill found him at the barracks. Knocking on his door and when Dean held the door open and waited for him to enter he looked around.

“Not one for having belongings, are you,” he commented.

Dean shrugged, having things meant that things could be taken away from you. He chose to have nothing so that no one else would feel compelled to have it.

“I hear you have some sort of affinity for languages,” O’Neill said.

Dean remained silent, he knew some Latin. Had it drilled into him at a young age until he could have performed the two exorcisms they’d done on his own without his dads’ journal.

He’d taken a few classes at the local college once he got to his first base assignment, learned some Spanish, some French. Had taken Russian for a semester until the guys he worked with started looking at him with suspicion and he’d stopped.

Sam had been the smart one, dad had been the gung ho hunter and by default that left dumb blonde to Dean. He’d never been dumb, he’d had numerous teachers tell him that he was smart and just not living up to his potential.

He’d like to have seen them ‘live up to their potential’ while changing schools seemingly once a month.

Besides he’d never thought he’d be _that_ guy, the one who liked learning. He’d just barely tolerated school, definitely could have lived without it. He didn’t know what had prompted the interest in the first place except that it was being paid for.

Sammy had been the one that was going to go to college, Dean only wondered once a week whether or not he’d gotten to.

“If you’re interested I have someone I’d like you to work with,” the Colonel smiled at him and Dean just shrugged. They’d send him where they’d send him.

He’d not talked to Sammy in 4 years.

 

***************************************

 

Dr. Daniel Jackson wasn’t anything like what Dean had expected. Off beat, eccentric. Prone to forgetting that he was in the room.

So intelligent that sometimes it scared him.

Dean wasn’t sure what he was doing working in the same room as him. The man knew like 27 languages and on a good day Dean could claim to at least reasonably comprehend 4, one of them English.

It took him a month to realize that he was basically a body guard and the fact that he knew other languages was just the icing on the cake as far as the Colonel was concerned. It was less suspicious if it at least _looked_ like he had a reason to be in the same room with Daniel.

Besides if it had taken him a month to figure it out, Daniel would realize it about three years from then.

 

***************************************

 

He was 24 when he went to Atlantis.

They’d been testing everyone in Antarctica for the Ancient gene, Dean had been there because Daniel had been there. He’d been tested because _everyone_ had to sit in the chair.

He didn’t make it do amazing things like that Air Force Major, but he had managed a bit of something and he’d been offered the gig.

He would have turned it down except Daniel had been there when it had been offered and since Daniel had lobbied long and hard to go and had been denied he couldn’t very well turn around and tell him he didn’t _want_ to go.

A one way trip through the gate and he’d gone on a few missions with SG-1 because of Daniel so he kind of knew what to expect.

Days after they got there he’d have his own room and he’d be part of a team, not first contact thank god but he’d been part of the second team and every so often got snagged to look at translations even though he wasn’t Daniel and wasn’t the linguist assigned to the Atlantis group.

When he’d been considering the pros and cons of going, Sammy and dad hadn’t weighed in on either list.

 

***************************************

 

He was 28 when the Stargate program went public.

They were fairly sheltered in Atlantis. Daniel made two trips that year on the Daedalus to help him with translations. Their formal linguist had been killed the year prior and the SGC hadn’t seen the point of sending a new one when they had Dean there and Dean had a direct connection to Dr. Daniel Jackson.

He sensed Dr. Weir’s fingerprints all over that, she’d been fighting tooth and nail to keep from inundating Atlantis with too many new faces, not when the old ones, the original ones weren’t complaining about overwork.

Unless you were Dr. McKay, and his complaints were pretty much expected and no weight was lent to them. Until he turned off the power to your rooms and then you knew he needed to get help because he wasn’t sleeping.

So Daniel came twice and the second time was suspiciously close to his birthday so he wasn’t even surprised to walk into the mess and find a surprise party waiting for him.

He probably should never have mentioned that he’d never had a birthday party. Though he didn’t regret it in the slightest.

Because the best part about birthday parties were the presents.

Daniel gave him a book, ‘you can never have too many books’ he’d said. It was from his private collection which meant that it was worth more than Dean made in a year and he’d tried to give it back only to have Daniel leave it on his bed the morning that he left.

Ronon gave him a knife, which was the norm. Ronon gave him knives for every holiday in which gifts were given. He’d even got one for Hanukkah even though he’d explained that he wasn’t Jewish. Ronon wouldn’t take the knife back though and it was the one strapped to his thigh when he went through the Stargate

Teyla gave him sticks, and he thought that might be a hint that he wasn’t spending enough time in the gym.

Colonel Sheppard gave him a day off and Dr. Weir ordered him to take it.

Lorne and the rest of his team gave him a box of chocolate to either eat or use to trade for things. The chocolate must have come directly from the Daedalus to his party because they’d been out of Kit Kats six months in.

Rodney gave him a look that said ‘you aren’t as stupid as I once thought you were’ and then tried to take half his chocolate in compensation.

It was the best birthday he’d had since he was four.

Then the Stargate program went public and hell broke loose.

Granted Daniel had warned him during his visit that he thought it was imminent so he wasn’t that _surprised_ when it had happened.

For two days after everyone had to film blurbs for their family talking about Atlantis, Dean had thankfully just come back from a mission gone wrong and had been unconscious in the infirmary so he’d not had to participate. He hadn’t even planned that.

Of course it wasn’t like he _could_ plan the planet of 7 feet tall Amazon women that had taken offense to both the fact that they were wearing clothes when they came through the gate _and_ the fact that they wouldn’t have sex with them.

Lorne had termed it more nicely in the mission report.

Calling it copulation and a difference of opinions on their attire.

He didn’t even mention that Dean had been knocked upside the head with a rock by a 6 foot tall sixteen year old _girl_ and that they’d caught her dragging him back to her tent thing on poles by his foot. It had to have been quite obvious though, he’d come through the gate on a stretcher after all.

He’d been offered the opportunity to film his blurb after he’d woken up. He’d shrugged and said that there wasn’t really anyone that he had to send it to.

He could have it sent to Sammy of course but what would he say?

_Sorry for running out on you, hope you and dad are still alive? Wish you were here._

Life went on and it had been so many years since he’d last seen them that dad and Sammy had probably forgotten all about him.

Had probably forgotten about him before that first year was even up.

 

***************************************

 

He was 30 when the lawyers showed up in Atlantis.

Honestly he’d been surprised that it had taken them that long. There’d been rumblings about it for six months before they finally showed.

Dean’s team had been on a mission so they’d missed the arrival of the Daedalus, which honestly only upset him because it meant slim pickings when they got their chance to go through the supplies that it had brought in.

He should have known something was up. This mission had been quiet, no one had ended up unconscious or drugged or shot. When they came through the gate Dr. Weir was waiting for them which never happened.

Smiling at them and leading them to the conference room to debrief. Dean had thought he was imagining things when the eyes in the control room seemed to follow them out of the bay.

Dr. Parrish was babbling at him about the purple trees they’d seen and what differences in the air could have caused that and ‘did he see that bright pink flower that was blooming off of it’.

“Dean,” he stopped short, Dr. Parrish running right into him.

He knew that voice. Except it had been a bit more high pitched, prone to breaking when he was angry and it had belonged to a geeky, chubby little fourteen year old.

Not this man that was standing in front of him, shaggy hair and broad shoulders and a suit that was well tailored and looked expensive.

“Sammy.”

 

***************************************

 

Sammy yelled at him for two hours, not in front of the others. Dr. Weir had dismissed him to allow him time to catch up with his brother.

_“Why didn’t you tell us you had family coming on the Daedalus? We wouldn’t have sent you off world.”_

The look on Ronon’s face promised retribution for not sharing the fact that he had a sibling.

Daniel would just pout when he found out, that little disappointed face that caused General O’Neill to agree to things that he wouldn’t under normal circumstances.

Between the two of them he wasn’t sure which was more dangerous. Daniel could be a little hellion when pissed off but Dean had only managed to best Ronon once in all the years they’d been sparring together.

Between Ronon and Daniel he had two best friends and they both demanded honesty above all else.

He didn’t tell any of them that he hadn’t spoken to his brother in twelve years.

He still wasn’t even sure what Colonel Sheppard’s team had been _doing_ there in the first place.

“What are you _doing_ here Sammy?” Dean finally managed to ask when Sammy wound down.

“First off, my name is _Sam_ , I haven’t answered to Sammy in a lot of years, and did you really think that once we figured out where you were that one of us wasn’t going to figure out a way to _get_ here.”

Dean just stared at him, because, what the hell?

“Jesus Dean, we _looked_ for you for two fucking years. Dad stopped hunting anything else and we hunted for _you_ , we thought you were in trouble. That you’d been kidnapped. That you were _dead_. Then we get this letter a couple of years ago, right after the program went public. ‘Congratulations on your son and his commitment to the SGC’, dad was so glad that you were alive that he wanted to contact you right away, but I told him that we needed to wait for you to make the first move. And you never did you asshole,” Sam glared at him.

“Do you know how much dad was hurt by that? A form letter from the fucking _government_ told us where you were and you couldn’t even be bothered to send a data burst telling us that you were _okay_.”

Dean narrowed his eyes; Sammy wasn’t going to make him feel sorry for dad or him. Couldn’t, because he’d seen the writing on the wall and he knew that in the scheme of things he was cannon fodder.

Dispensable, disposable.

They hadn’t _needed_ him. If dad’d had to choose between him and Sammy he would have chosen Sammy and never looked back.

“We only have the three of us and then you left and what the hell were we supposed to do?”

“Move on. Christ Sammy you guys didn’t need me, towards the end there half the time dad acted like he expected me to not come back from hunting.”

“Because you were getting reckless, hell he was terrified that you were going to get yourself killed.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Dad didn’t care enough to worry about me dying, the man had two sons and he only treated you _like_ one. I was his little soldier, I _wasn’t_ his son.”

“ _You_ are a fucking _moron_. You and dad… god it’s like you never even knew each other.”

Dean shook his head. “What are you doing here Sammy?”

Sammy ran a hand through his hair and looked suddenly tired.

“I came to take you home.”

“This is my home, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not for good, you can come back if you want. It’s just… dad isn’t as young as he used to be, you need to come home. See him, set things right.”

Dean stared at him, just stared and honestly he wished Ronon were there, or even Dr. Weir. They could both tell him if Sammy was telling him the truth or just blowing smoke up his ass.

He’d never been good at determining when Sammy was lying to him. Because his father had programmed him to be the good older brother, and even with the glitch that had let him leave… faced with Sammy he was conditioned to do what Sammy wanted.

“Fine, but I reserve the right to leave if dad’s being a jack ass.”

“That’s all right, he’s already reserved the right to knock you on your ass if you’re an idiot.”

 

***************************************

 

He was 30 when he went home.

Or at least to the home that dad and Sammy had made. They lived in the same town that Dean had run away from 12 years prior.

The white one story house with blue shutters had a white picket fence. Dean wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own two eyes.

“Are you sure he’s not possessed?” he asked doubtfully.

“He thought it would be easier for you to find us if we didn’t move around as much,” Sammy said quietly as they sat in the car.

Dean thought he might be waiting for him to make the first move, to open the door.

He saw a curtain move and knew that they were being watched from the house.

He was in uniform; Colonel Sheppard had suggested it and Lorne had backed him up. Telling him that he should look the role.

“He was proud of you Dean. When we got that letter, upset that you chose the Air Force instead of the Marines, but he was still proud of you.”

Dean nodded once, to show that he heard him. If he didn’t acknowledge the fact that Sammy had said something he was prone to repeating it until Dean wanted to beat him to death.

He took a deep breath and shoved his hat on. Opened the door and stepped out.

On the other side of the car Sammy stepped out as well, the front door opened and there was a petite blonde woman, hair pulled back in a neat ponytail standing there. A small child, about four by her side.

The boy was a spitting image of Sammy at that age and Dean felt his breath catch.

“That’s Jess, my wife. And our son. Michael Dean,” Sammy said from behind him. A gentle hand on his back and Dean made the first step before Sammy could push him up the sidewalk.

They were trying to make it impossible for him to go back home.

There was movement behind Jess and Michael, and there was his dad.

An almost full head of silver/gray hair, neat beard on his face and Dean stopped when John did.

Staring at each other and John smiled. A little one that barely curled his lips up that Dean copied. Then John was taking the three steps and pulling Dean into a rough hug and Dean slowly raised his arms to wrap around him.

Sam behind him, long arms holding them together.

“Welcome home son,” John whispered. “Welcome home.”

 

End


	2. Journey’s End 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean had no control over his life…

**Journey’s End 2**

 

 

When it came to a head Dean would blame Daniel. Because even in another galaxy with no contact with Daniel in over a year Daniel still had the ability to totally fuck up his life in new and interesting ways.

It wasn’t uncommon for them to return and be greeted by Doctor Weir, sometimes Colonel Sheppard. But normally they were there because there’d been a fatality, sometimes on Atlantis, sometimes on Earth.

Regardless having both of them, with Doctor McKay hovering in the background made them all a little nervous.

“Captain, how did it go?” Doctor Weir, ever polite. Dean exchanged looks with Parrish because did they really think small talk was going to put them at ease.

“They asked us to leave and to never return, else we would face the punishment of their gods,” Lorne said, straight face.

Doctor Weir nodded, exchanged a look with Colonel Sheppard.

“I’d like to see both you and Sergeant Winchester in my office once you’ve cleaned up,” Lorne nodded to show that he’d heard, Dean’s back stiffened and every muscle in his body went on high alert.

There was nobody on Atlantis and there were only a few people on Earth.

Daniel, Dad, Sammy.

He followed the rest of his team, went through the motions of changing out his uniform and putting his kit away and followed Lorne back to Doctor Weir’s office.

Inside there was the Colonel and McKay and Weir and Dean’s stomach clenched as he wondered who it was.

Not Daniel, the General would have personally made a trip in order to tell Dean that.

So Sammy or Dad, or maybe both and he suddenly felt regret and pain for leaving and not even saying goodbye.

“No one’s died,” Doctor Weir said suddenly and just like that the visible tension in the room ceased.

He and Lorne exchanged a look, because if there’d been no deaths then why…?

The tablet came flying from nowhere at him and Dean caught it almost reflexively because if not McKay had tossed it high enough that it would have whacked him in the head.

“What’s that say?” There was a thin line of glee in McKay’s voice and Dean narrowed his eyes at him before glancing down at the tablet.

Then looked back up in confusion.

“Is this a trick question?”

“What. Does. It. Say?” McKay enunciated clearly and Dean had heard that tone many times and sometimes he thought McKay should just come right out and call everyone idiots to their faces instead of using it.

“It’s a shopping list,” Dean rolled his eyes and tossed the tablet back at him. “In Goa’uld.”

McKay smirked and looked over at Colonel Sheppard and Doctor Weir with satisfaction.

“I want him reassigned to the linguistics department.”

“Wait a minute, what?” And confusion again, and he was echoing Lorne which meant that they were working together too much.

“And I don’t have enough military as it is to just be giving up one of my guys,” Colonel Sheppard was scowling.

“Rodney, maybe we should talk about this.” Doctor Weir’s tone was placating.

“Maybe we should ask the Sergeant what he wants,” Lorne intercut loudly.

They all looked at Dean expectantly and he looked back at them blankly. Because hell, what did they want from him?

“I was under the impression when I took the gig that I was here under the Military banner, not under the Science banner.”

And Colonel Sumner had been very clear on what his expectations had been, that Dean would forget every single thing he’d learned working with Daniel and focus himself on being a member of the US Military.

“Besides, we have a linguist here. Doctor Spieltz,” he reminded them. “I’ve worked with him before, he’s good.” And he was, he’d been handpicked from Daniel’s team after all.

“He’s dead,” Colonel Sheppard said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“We have him here, he has a direct line to Doctor Jackson, no replacement needed,” McKay rubbed his hands together.

“How about a compromise then, we get someone to help him out with Doctor Spieltz’s backlog and he’s shared between the Science Team and Lorne’s team,” Doctor Weir said tiredly.

Obviously they’d been arguing about this a while, because she sounded like she just wanted a decision made so she could move on to more important things.

Like keeping the city running.

“That’s acceptable,” Doctor McKay bounced in place. “I’ll need him tomorrow at 7,” he said to Lorne before bounding out of the room.

Colonel Sheppard rolled his eyes before following and Lorne patted him on the back.

So apparently he didn’t get a choice in the matter and really when had his life ever been about the choices that he got to make.

 

******************************************************************************

 

He was on time, he hadn’t wanted to be but Ronon had reminded him at breakfast that Rodney was a sucker for punctuality and Dean wasn’t sure but he thought that Rodney could probably dock pay even though they were pretty much on duty 24-7 and he hadn’t seen an LES since he’d got to Atlantis.

“Good you’re here,” McKay looked up when he made his appearance in the doorway to the science lab. “Radek try not to blow anything up while we’re gone.”

Zelenka growled at him but didn’t look up from whatever he was tinkering with when they left.

McKay led him past two doors and into the third which Dean knew had been Dr. Spieltz’s office because he’d worked with him a handful of times during his off-hours.

“His in-box,” McKay pointed at a box that was full of overflowing, “if you need help there’s a bunch of idiots that couldn’t decipher the tablet I gave you that are supposedly linguists that you can commandeer, I’ll check in periodically,” he nodded once meaningfully and stalked back out the door.

Dean glanced at the door, at the in-box and wondered if it was suicide if you got buried under a mound of someone else’s paperwork.

 

******************************************************************************

 

There was a white-board covering one wall of Spieltz’s office (he should probably refer to it as his but he figured that it was only a matter of time before Dr. Weir overruled McKay and assigned someone who had actually gone to college and got a degree to head up the Linguists Department) with a half-completed translation scrawled across it.

He’d never worked on a translation by himself, always before he’d worked hand in hand with Daniel, or if Daniel was off saving the world with SG-1 then someone that Daniel had assigned to work with him.

Sometimes he’d told Dean to take a couple of days off and Dean had ended up getting loaned out to another SG team (which he never mentioned to Daniel because Daniel could be really possessive of his people and not knowing where and with who they were working, Dean blamed General O’Neill totally) because Dean didn’t like taking days off.

So it ended up taking two days for Dean to feel comfortable in space that he didn’t really think of as his and erase everything Spieltz had done and start over, because hell, for a linguist his handwriting was for shit and every other word Dean couldn’t read.

It took another day for him to finish the translation that Spieltz had been working on when he’d been killed, copied everything carefully out and then sent it to the linguists that hovered in the next room to doublecheck for him and moved on.

They had a mission on the fourth and fifth days so Dean got a brief respite, though when they returned through the gate he was having visions of the in-box that he’d left half full piled to the top again.

Spieltz’s office was dark when he made it there at 7:05, scrubbing his eyes and yawning.

The in-box wasn’t bad though there was a scathing note from McKay scribbled on the white board.

_Put your idiots to work or I’ll find something for them to do._

Dean frowned and wondered when the linguist group had become his, he was just on loan.

Right?

He looked back the in-box and sighed.

Dr. Weir hadn’t overruled McKay yet so he was still on loan.

It took him two hours to go through his in-box and he kept fourteen projects for himself and split the others based on what he remembered of the strengths of those people that had been brought from Daniel’s team

Those that he didn’t know personally could work with one of the others and he felt pretty good when he pushed himself to his feet and entered the lab that the linguists had commandeered.

 

******************************************************************************

 

He wanted to punch something. Preferably Daniel, because he was the one that had assigned the linguists to the Atlantis project and he’d felt something twist when he had to admit that McKay was right.

They were all idiots.

Actually the might even be worse then idiots and he wondered if it was possible for someone to actually lose braincells, because he didn’t remember any of them being that stupid when they were working under Daniel.

Daniel didn’t put up with stupidity.

He’d had to fix four translations that had come back from that group and he wondered if this was their way of testing him because he was the one that had been put in charge.

It was no wonder that Spieltz had run off and got himself killed, Dean just thought that his time would be better served rounding them all up and shooting them and doing the translations himself.

He didn’t need to sleep.

Lorne appeared in his doorway and grinned at him.

“Can I just kill them all? I’ve got a half dozen ideas and they’d all look like accidents, no one could prove anything,” Dean scowled.

“Dr. McKay said that you were having issues with them.” Lorne sidled into the office closing the door behind him. He glanced over at the whiteboard that Dean had left 3/4 of a translation on, grinning at the stick figure dangling by his ankle from a rope that Dean had doodled at one point.

“They don’t like taking orders from Dr. Jackson’s catamite,” Dean snarled.

“I know, Dr. McKay overheard. I’m pretty sure that he’s already said something to the Colonel,” Dean scowled. The last thing he needed was the Colonel or Dr. McKay to come in and try and fix things for him.

“I can handle this on my own,” Dean stated. He’d pulled enough pranks on Sammy growing up that he could deal with this in his own way.

“Just don’t kill anyone,” Lorne warned.

Dean smiled thinly.

“I won’t kill them; they might wish I had though.”

 

******************************************************************************

 


	3. Journey's End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam brings Dean home, but he can't make him stay

**Journey's End 3**

 

 

It takes 14 years for Dean to finally come home to them, and then it takes 3 days after Dean comes home for Dean and Dad to almost come to blows.

Luckily Dean doesn't react the way that Sam or Dad expect him to. Dad flinches, he knows he's in the wrong, knows that Dean is defensive of the decision that he made 14 years prior that led to him leaving them.

Before he might have taken a swing, seen Dad as a threat. Now he takes a walk, or a run if the way he comes back dripping sweat is any indication.

When Sam says something, he just shrugs and says that he's working on his impulse control. Sam tells dad to back off, but dad can't help but pick at those wounds.

He wants to understand why his oldest son had made the decision to walk away. He doesn't know, doesn't understand why his oldest boy thought he didn't love him.

He loves his boys equally, Sam knows this. Dad knows this.

Dean _doesn't_ know this, doesn't see this and neither of them know of any way to show him that fact.

Dean is supposed to be with them for 2 weeks, a forced vacation. He knows this because he overheard that Colonel Sheppard telling Dean that before they got on the Daedelus to come home. He remembers Dean sputtering when Colonel Sheppard told him that he would not be allowed back _on_ the Daedelus until the end of those 14 days.

Sam had thought 14 days wasn't nearly long enough to try and reconnect with his big brother. To re-establish the missing bond that he'd once had with Dean.

Now he wonders if 14 days is possibly too much time.

Either Dad or Dean could be dead, slain by the hand of the other in less time then that.

It is a far cry from the excitement, the _exhilaration_ that he'd felt when they first got the letter years before.

 

******************************************************************************

 

_"What's that?" Sam asked. Dad had been staring at the same sheet of paper since he'd walked in the door._

_"Your brother," John said simply. Still staring at the letter._

_Sam didn't understand, not until his Dad started reading it to him._

_Dean was in the military, in the Air Force. Sam hadn't thought he'd see the day where Dean would answer to commands issued from other people besides Dad._

_His brother was part of that Stargate project that had been making the news since it was de-classified. Sam could feel the excitement rising up within him, they knew where Dean was, where he had most likely been._

_Ironically they'd been to Nevada, three different hunters had sighted Dean there, Sam and dad had checked out each one and each time had come up empty handed._

_The motels had no one staying with them that looked like Dean; they visited each bar and the bartenders took their money but had told them they'd never seen Dean. Not ever._

_And since Dean had never understood the concept of keeping a low profile Sam and dad had gone away empty handed. They should have dug deeper, but with Dean not in any of the places that he would typically have been found they'd called each trip there a bust and returned home._

_They waited for Dean to contact them, they knew where he was, Dean had to know that they now knew. So they waited and there was no contact, no letter explaining why he'd left, no data burst telling them that he was okay._

_There was nothing but the realization that Dean **wasn't** coming home. That in order to **bring** him home one of them would probably have to go get him._

_They started working on that almost immediately._

 

******************************************************************************

 

Sam remembers days, weeks bordering on months spent in Nevada trying to convince people to help them get in touch with Dean. When General O'Neill arrived at the door of their hotel room they were only slightly surprised.

They _had_ been making an incredible nuisance of themselves.

 

******************************************************************************

 

_The General had just looked them over, smiled a wide smile._

_And introduced them to the man that he'd brought with him. Dr. Daniel Jackson studied them as if they were bugs, no wide smile. Just pursed lips and narrowed eyes._

_"What do you want with Dean Winchester?" he'd asked in a tone that led Sam to believe that these men had no idea who they were. Had no clue that Dean was his brother and their family._

_"Dean is my brother," Sam had said simply. His dad had simply stood there, back ramrod straight and it had dawned on Sam then that his dad was a former military man and Jack O'Neill was a General in the US Military._

_Air Force yes and he'd muttered and grumbled about Dean choosing the Air Force over the Marines, but still the military._

_"Brother?" Dr. Jackson had glanced over at General O'Neill. "Dean's never mentioned any family before."_

_"You know my brother?" Sam asked eagerly. Dean having never mentioned them stung a little, but the fact that Dr. Jackson's tone indicated that this was knowledge that Dean should, **would** have shared with him took priority._

_"Jack brought him into the program as my bodyguard," Dr. Jackson said with amusement. General O'Neill looked startled for only a second, then sheepish._

_"Knew about that did you."_

_"Well he knows 4 languages, more now of course," Dr. Jackson added, probably for their benefit. Sam glanced over at dad to see if he looked as stunned as Sam felt. He'd known that Dean wasn't stupid, but the fact that he knew languages. That he'd probably gone out of his **way** to learn languages was not something that Sam would have foreseen._

_Dean had hated learning the Latin that dad had forced them to learn._

_"Originally he was brought on to help me with translations; it took a while to figure out that he was really a bodyguard that just happened to have an affinity for languages. That as long as he had a starting point he could learn them fairly simply," Dr. Jackson smiled slightly. "He probably figured it out long before I did."_

_"About six months in," General O'Neill supplied helpfully. The expression that Dr. Jackson shot him indicated that he thought it not so helpful. "He thought someone should tell you, I told him that when you figured it out was soon enough."_

_"Told him?"_

_"Ordered him."_

_"So you do know my brother then?"_

_"Yes, I thought that was fairly obvious," Dr. Jackson eyed him as if he thought him not intelligent at all. Sam had always been smarter then Dean so that was kind of annoying._

_"When can we see him?" his Dad asked. Cutting right to the chase, getting to the point of what he hoped was the reason that the General and Dr. Jackson were at their hotel room._

_"See that's kind of the problem," the General scratched his head and shot a look at Dr. Jackson._

_"When the project was de-classified there was mention made of an outpost on Atlantis," Dr. Jackson started, pushing his glasses further up on his nose._

_And that was how Sam and John had learned that while they may have found Dean, getting to him was going to be a bit harder then just hopping on a plane._

 

******************************************************************************

 

Dean starts running first thing in the morning. Sam thinks that the miles his brother's running is the distance he's trying to get away from them, he tries not to think that this might be Dean's one and only visit home.

Dad doesn't know how to bridge the gulf between them, doesn't know how to show Dean that he loves him without it denigrating into an order that Dean won't follow any longer.

In the morning, after breakfast which he thanks Jessica for profusely every single time, he pulls papers out of his bag and spreads them out on the dining room table.

Sam and John both have seen the papers, neither can make head or tail of them. They can tell when Dean gets frustrated at something he can't decipher because he'll take Michael out into the back yard and work off some of his annoyance.

He's gentle with his nephew, and Michael looks up at him with wide, worshipful eyes while Dean treats him as if he's a prized possession. Sam can remember looking at his older brother like that once and wishes that Dean still looked at him as if _he_ was a prized possession.

He thinks that being jealous of his son's relationship with his brother is insane and tells Jessica that it might be time to get himself committed.

Jessica calls him an idiot and tells him that he and Dad need to fix things with Dean before he leaves. Sam wonders if Jess feels the same thing that he does.

That if they don't _fix_ things Dean might never return to them again.

It might be taken out of their hands sooner then Sam thinks because on Dean's seventh day home Dr. Jackson appears on their doorstep.

"Dean's not here," Sam says, he wants to tell Dr. Jackson to go away, because he's not ready to give his brother back over to these people.

Dr. Jackson smiles at him, "I'll wait for him then, he called me about a translation he was having problems with."

Jess pushes him aside and allows Dr. Jackson into their home, Sam tries not to feel betrayed at that movement. Dad appears in the doorway to the kitchen, hand resting on Michael's shoulder as they all stand there staring at each other.

"Well this is awkward," Dr. Jackson murmurs.

Dean shows up then, he'd been off for his morning five mile jog. Sam had gone with him once and wanted to die at about the two mile mark. He's horribly out of shape compared to Dean at the moment but he thinks that he at least made it further then Dr. Jackson would have.

Dean grins at Dr. Jackson, a wide happy smile that Sam hasn't seen but a handful of times since they brought Dean home. A smile which Dr. Jackson returns.

"Daniel," Dean makes a move as if to hug the other man and Dr. Jackson raises his arms as if to ward him off. Dean smirks at him and Sam realizes that each move had been expected, an air of ritual to it. Dean had moved to hug him and Dr. Jackson had warded him off and they trade private smiles.

They know each very well and Sam thinks that Dr. Jackson wasn't the sort of person that Dean would have been friends with before.

"I didn't think you were coming in until tomorrow."

"Jack got me on an earlier flight, I think I was driving him a bit crazy."

Dean grins again. "I'll go shower and then I'll show you what I've been working on."

 

******************************************************************************

 

Dean and Dr. Jackson, _call me Daniel and do I smell coffee_ , lean over the table, heads bent together and they work together so easily that it hurts something inside Sam.

He feels as if he's been replaced, there's an easy give and take in Dean's responses to Daniel. They don't even talk in full sentences, half sentences and sometimes a word, are all it takes for one to lead the other in their direction of thinking.

Dad hovers at the end of the table, Sam sits in one of the chairs. He's ostensibly brought out his own paperwork he should be working on, he has two cases that he's the primary on, and he's lost enough time going to Atlantis and bringing Dean home.

But the way Dean and Daniel work together keeps drawing his interest.

He has no idea what they're trying to decipher, thinks that sometimes they're not even talking about the translation that has been driving Dean insane since he began working on it days earlier.

He hears Daniel mention Ronon and his ears perk up, Ronon had been one of those people on Atlantis. Sam remembers seeing Dean talking to him, he'd thought they might have been arguing but when Dean's team and Colonel Sheppard's team had shown up to see Dean off they'd seemed all right.

He suddenly wonders if Daniel is here to help Dean with the translation or to bring him news of Atlantis.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Daniel stays with them; Dean gives up his room and sleeps on the couch.

 _"I've slept in worse places."_ Dean won't elaborate. And no matter how they push Daniel won't either.

They work on translations for two days, and it takes that long for Sam to realize that Daniel is something _other_ then a friend to Dean.

It takes hearing voices in the room that had been set aside as Dean's years before and Sam peeking in to find out what is going on.

He doesn't expect to see Daniel kissing his big brother, doesn't expect to see Dean kissing him back, hands tight on Daniel's hips.

Sam walks away and thinks that maybe his brain has leaked out his ears between the door to Dean's room and his bedroom, because nothing makes sense.

Daniel has been here for days and Sam has never thought that maybe the reason he stays, the reason that he plays the role of buffer between Dean and Dad and Sam is because he has a vested interest in the outcome of this visit.

It takes him another day to approach Daniel, and it's not because he doesn't know what to say ( _why are you kissing my brother? Why are you here? Why are you taking him away from us?_ ) but because Dean doesn't ever leave Daniel alone around them.

Except when Daniel leaves the table to get coffee, Sam has been waiting, watching the coffee in the cup drop further and further and he knows that he'll have the opportunity to corner Daniel if he times it just right.

Daniel has been waiting for the same thing it seems. Because when Sam walks into the kitchen he smiles at him.

"Dean has never really gotten over the whole bodyguard thing."

 

******************************************************************************

 

Dean is not at all amused about the turn of events that have Sam and Daniel talking. Sam knows this because he hears Dean tell Daniel so.

Daniel laughs at him.

"They're your family, Dean," Daniel says. Sam is unashamedly eavesdropping.

"On four worlds they're your in-laws," Dean mutters. Daniel laughs again.

"And on two more they're Ronon's."

"You're sure he's okay?" Dean sounds worried and Sam knows that besides helping Dean with translations that Daniel has been bringing Dean updates from home.

"They're superficial wounds, he'll be fine. By the time you get back he'll be on his feet again and complaining because Colonel Sheppard has grounded him for the interim."

Dean hums at that.

"Dean…" Daniel sighs, a long suffering, ' _you're being a jackass sigh_ ' that Sam recognizes as such because it's the same one that Jess sighs when she thinks Sam is being a moron.

He thinks that Daniel and Dean must have been together for a very long time and doesn't understand how Ronon fits into all this.

Do they share him? When Dean's on Earth he's Daniel's, when he's on Atlantis he's Ronon's? He wonders what happens during those times when Ronon is on Earth or Daniel is on Atlantis.

Then decides that he doesn't want to know, he already has way more information about Dean's love life then he really wants and much more then Dean wants him to have.

The door flies open and Dean is staring at him, Daniel shaking his head and staring at the floor.

"Are you eavesdropping?" Dean demands.

"No?" Sam shakes his head, though he doesn't sound convinced and Dean doesn't believe him from the skepticism on his face.

"Look you don't talk to us, you're my brother. My big brother, I just want to know that you're okay, I just want to… I want to know you, like a brother is supposed to," Sam says in a rush of air. Dean looks at him then over his shoulder at Daniel.

"Sammy…"

"I mean I don't even know who he is to you, is he a friend, a boyfriend, should I have been letting you sleep in the same room and finding a way to break it to dad in some way that won't make him have a heart attack."

"Daniel is my…" Dean looks over that other man, who appears to be nothing but supportive with a mild touch of 'I wish I was anywhere but here'.

"I'm his… well I guess we're kind of like lovers, sometimes."

"Sometimes? I don't…"

"I'm not on Earth all that often Sammy, Daniel's got responsibilities here that he can't just abandon to come be my kept man on Atlantis."

"Besides the fact that I would get bored and since you're running the linguistics team with an iron fist I don't want to impose."

"An iron fist? I let them have holidays off, the first two years I worked with you I didn't even get _Christmas_ off."

"That wasn't my fault," Daniel shakes his head, Dean smirks at him.

"Ronon?" Sam asks, because he has a feeling if he lets them that they'll go off on a tangent and he doesn't think he can ask these questions again.

"Ronon is my…"

"Ronon is his partner," Daniel says firmly.

"Daniel…"

"He _is_ Dean, he shares you with me when I'm on Atlantis but 362 days of the year you are his, it's not fair to slight him like that because you think that I'll get upset."

"I was _yours_ first," Dean says softly, Sam pretends not to hear and looks at the floor, trying to give them some semblance of privacy without leaving the room. He still manages to see Daniel move up beside him, place his hand low on Dean's back and lean into him.

"Got what you need Sammy?" Dean asks, Sam coughs and nods and continues looking at the floor.

"You can, you know…" he coughs again. "Share the room, or… whatever."

"Sam it's okay."

"I'm just gonna…" Sam gestures at the door.

"Go before you stroke out, I know CPR man, but I'm not performing it on you," when Sam looks up he can see the smirk on Dean's face, Daniel is standing next to him, hand still on his back.

Sam thinks they look right together and he wonders if were to see Dean and Ronon together like this if they would look just as right.

"Right," Sam backs away, and closes the door behind him.

"You didn't tell him that when I'm on Atlantis it's more Ronon and I sharing you between the two of us, then Ronon giving over his time to me," he can still hear Daniel say with amusement.

"Did you see his face; I didn't want to have to call 911. My dad would never forgive me if I killed Sammy off."

 

******************************************************************************

 

Dean has two days left; and now that Sam knows about him and Daniel he makes no effort to hide his relationship with the other man.

He even kisses Daniel lightly when dad is in the room and he wonders if he was the last one to actually _know_ about them.

Daniel leaves on Dean's last morning with them, a tight hug in the foyer and 'I'll see you at the SGC,' before he waves at them and departs.

Dean looks a little lost at being alone with them.

They have twelve hours before they have to drive Dean to the airport and Sam had thought to have a quiet day just the five of them at home.

Instead Dean has a list of things he needs to take back with him so they go shopping and then out to lunch and then Dean helps Jess do the four loads of laundry that he has and before he knows it their time has run out.

Dean puts his uniform back on, puts his bags in the trunk and he hugs Jessica and Michael, he speaks in low tones to dad and then hugs him too. Dad holding him tightly, eyes closed and Sam looks away.

He'd said that he would bring Dean home, and he had. He hadn't been able to say that he would be able to keep Dean there and he feels like he's failed dad by having to take Dean back to the airport and send him back to his life without them.

When they're in the car Dean looks over at him, hat in his lap.

"You'll let me know how things are going?"

Sam nods, there's a knot in his throat that he can't speak around and he thinks if he tries to, he might end up attempting to beg Dean to stay.

And he can't, Sam knows this.

He has a life, that is far away from the one that they would have, should have lived and it's filled with people and friends and family that aren't him and dad and Jessica and Michael.

He's not going in to the airport with him, he can't and they sit outside the terminal for long seconds before Dean starts shifting and Sam decides that if he's going to say something, anything it needs to be now.

"You could, you know, send pictures… Jess, she does, has these family photo albums that she puts pictures and stuff in… We don't have any of you," the last picture that is of Dean is when he was eighteen, he's scowling and his eyes are unhappy. Sam thinks that whatever pictures Dean deigns to send them he'll definitely not be scowling and his eyes won't be unhappy and he might actually be smiling.

"Okay… take care of the family, Sam," Dean says softly.

"Always do."

 

******************************************************************************

 

Six weeks after Dean leaves a packet shows up. Jessica is at work, Michael at school, John is volunteering with a local Youth organization. Sam is the only one home and he signs for the packet, the young man in uniform, who can't be more the fourteen nods and thanks him.

There are pictures inside.

Pictures of Dean with his team and his team and him with Colonel Sheppard's team. Pictures of what looks to be a birthday party for Dean, since he's the one blowing the candles out on the cake.

He gives them all to Jess and she puts them in the spaces reserved for Dean and his life and his family in their albums.

There are two pictures, one each of Dean and Daniel and Dean and Ronon, on the back of them, in Dean's scrawl he's written 'me and the mr' and Sam laughs to himself because he can hear Dean being sarcastic even with written words.

The last picture he keeps to himself, he puts it in a nice frame and displays it on his desk at work.

Dean looks happiest in that picture, Daniel and Ronon on either side of him, both leaning into him, like he's the sun and they're trying to get closer to warm themselves.

They're all smiling and happy and they look right.

 

******************************************************************************

 


End file.
